The Firebird and the Ice Assassin
by carliemartinBLG
Summary: Jack had fallen through the other side of the rift and was stuck on a parallel-world Torchwood, where every agent's bound to live happily ever after - except him. Not until he meets "The Firebird", a seventeen-year-old boy named Janto Jones. Will he help Jack find his beloved Ianto in this parallel world?
1. Chapter 1: The Captive

**Ch1: The Captive**

Jack's pretty pissed. He's trying hard not to be (because the pretty boy holding him captive is quite charming), but the way that he's locked in a chamber on Torchwood just like the Weevils – he just can't resist being downright pissed.

For the past hour he'd been on the run because of those stupid cops, went through a jet of bluish-white light and now he ended up cornered on his own motherfucking headquarters. Not by the police, of course, just the usual pursuers catching up on him – merely alien luck, more or less. Jack couldn't get more pissed at his current situation.

Surely, gorgeous men like him deserve some human (or alien) rights, too…

Hmm… Maybe?

Just right on cue, a man wearing a black cardigan over a red long-sleeved shirt came in. Much to Jack's surprise, he, too is wearing a long grey military coat. He's the one who caught him a while ago. Six feet flat, tousled ash-blonde hair, tastefully-defined jaw, steep nose, prominent cheekbones, perfect lips and a pair of almond-shaped blue eyes with brooding stare.

His face is strikingly familiar to Jack, and he sure looks stunning, too. And of course, Jack - being undeniably Jack - stared at his keeper seductively.

"Who are you?" The man leaned closer to him and asked him in an unbelievably recognisable (Welsh?) accent.

Well, _asking_ is a mild way of putting it. With Jack's wrists handcuffed behind his chair and his foot bound by a huge rope, it looks more like he's practically drilling Jack for the truth.

Not that Jack minds being drilled in another sense of the word, that is.

"Getting harsh now, are we?" Jack gave the attractive man his smouldering smile while shaking his handcuffed wrists behind his chair. "I appreciate all kinds of foreplay, of course."

"Please stop hitting on me; I won't take your bait." The Welsh accent flowed on continuously, drowning Jack's sane thoughts. "Now let's try that again, shall we?"

"I hate to break it to you, but nobody can resist this jaw line." Jack winked, earning a grave expression from the other. "Captain Jack Harkness, Royal Air Force, 133rd Squadron. And how about you, what's your name, gorgeous?"

"It doesn't need saying." The man's voice was quavering; his eyes never quite met Jack's. Jack could see his keeper's lips tremble while taking notes on a leather-bound notebook.

Jack still couldn't keep his eyes off of the man's face. It's _too_ familiar. He's _sure_ he had seen that face somewhere!

His keeper spoke again, more quiet than usual. "Where are you from? I… I need the approximate, if not exact time, location and date that you last remember before going here."

"20th of July, 2009. Probably around 21:15. I'm running on the tunnels, on my way to Torchwood Three. I was on Planet Earth. Sol 3." Jack recalled the sirens, the running, the bluish-white light, while his mind wandered about something else, something dreadful, something dark and torturous to think about…

"You still are, but I'm afraid this isn't your true world."

_Ah, yes. That damn bluish-white burst of light._

The man turned his back swiftly on Jack, whipping a mild yet mouth-watering scent of apples and cinnamon towards Jack's wake. He pressed his comm device. Jack leaned in on the glass door of the vault, hoping to catch a word about what's going on.

"It's him. Captain Jack Harkness." The man whispered dejectedly. He glanced at Jack again and left the vault, his long grey coat flapping wildly as he walked briskly. Jack could've sworn he saw a teardrop falling on the man's steep cheekbones.


	2. Chapter 2: The Mysterious Welshman

**Ch2: The Mysterious Welshman**

Jack hates being alone. Being alone, well, that usually entitles him to a ticket to Hell. What with his recent captivity, being placed in a chilling vault and those horrible memories that he can't run away from, so much potential lost, so much sacrifice, so much deaths…

_Alone. Hell. Cold. Death. Alone. Hell. Cold. Death._

First, Owen Harper – the most brilliant and sarcastic human doctor he had ever encountered. Then, Toshiko Sato, the amazingly gentle girl who could hack her way to almost anything and everything. Lastly, the only person who showed him how to feel vulnerability, being human again – dying in his arms while declaring his love for him, saying that Jack won't remember him in a thousand years' time… Even now he can't still say the name of the only man he had ever loved, and so quickly lost.

All three of them cut off from the normal, safe life because of _him_.

All three of them fought off alien invasion, dying in the process because of _him_.

All three of them dead, without anyone in the world knowing that they had died to save billions of people they hadn't known.

He's alone for two days with nothing but these grave thoughts inside his head. It makes him almost suicidal; if not for the fact that he _can't_ even bloody die.

Jack snapped out of his thoughts as a Japanese girl wearing a maroon overcoat knocked on the other side of the vault, waving a steaming mug.

"Tosh, is that really you? I thought you were…" Jack felt an inevitable grin spread on his weary face for the first time in _ages_. "Never mind! You're alive! Ha!"

"So, you're really Jack?" Toshiko unlocked the vault and sat on the floor beside Jack, handing him a steaming mug of black coffee. "It looks like you could use a cup of coffee. We can't convince Janto to come here and give this to you himself. He's still upset. You're the last thing he expects to come out of the rift!"

"Yeah, that blue light… I suppose I'm right – stuck in a parallel world, am I? Is there a parallel me? Parallel Owen, parallel Gwen, parallel…" And there, Jack still can't say his name. He took a huge gulp of the scathing coffee and thought of something less suspicious. "Um, parallel Torchwood."

Tosh just looked at him expectantly, obviously waiting for him to say some more, but he just couldn't bring himself to say the name. Even thinking of it sends shivers down his spine, knocks his heart cold.

"And by the way, who's Janto? The man down here two days ago?" Jack asked calmly, trying hard not to feel the blatant confusion that was slowly etching on his face.

"The way you speak of him… I might think that there's no Janto in your world?"

"There isn't. Not that I know of, anyway," Jack shrugged. "Which was quite a shame? He's gorgeous. Gorgeous as his name, that is."

That earned an incredulous look from Tosh. Jack raised his hands (and eyebrows) in surrender. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing… I'll just pretend I didn't hear that! Let's get you out of here. Everyone's dying to see you again, sort of." Tosh held Jack's hand and tugged him to stand. "Come."

In his entire existence, 'dying to see you again' is probably the most literal and discouraging phrase Jack could ever think of.

But Tosh's right – everybody seems pleased to see him (again?)

"Jack!" Gwen rushed, hugging Jack in a stranglehold. "I can't believe it's really you!"

"You're looking good, Miss Cooper!" Jack squeezed Gwen and patted her on the back. Good old times!

"I told you, that man simply won't die!" Owen chuckled.

"Rift or no rift, it is Jack!" Rhys went beside Jack, grinning. He's holding a four-year-old little girl. "This is our Anwen, pretty girl, she is. She's quite a looker, like her Mum."

"…And nothing like her bloody father, thank God for that!" Owen added.

Rhys scowled at Owen and handed Anwen to Jack. The little girl smiled at him. Jack instantly felt strangely at home. Wherever the parallel Jack is, he sure is lucky, because he's loved.

"Janto?" Anwen asked, her head lolling slightly in confusion.

Jack smiled at the little girl reassuringly and said, "No, Anwen. My name's Jack. I'm Captain Jack Harkness."

"Cap'n Jack…" Anwen repeated, her eyes looking at Jack judgingly, and then she smiled. Rhys sighed in relief. He looked around, evidently looking for someone.

"Where's Janto Jones?"

There was a brief silence before...

"Rhys!" Three voices – Owen, Gwen and Tosh – said Rhys's name disapprovingly. Jack reckons that it's the Torchwood code for 'Shut your bloody mouth!'

This statement made Jack wonder why this Janto had this surname. Janto Jones, his name is. His name is one letter different from the name freshly and painfully etched in Jack's heart – Ianto Jones.

So who is he to Jack?


	3. Chapter 3: Eyes That Won't Quite Meet

**Ch3: Eyes That Won't Quite Meet**

Torchwood: Outside the government, beyond the police. Fighting for the future on behalf of the human race…

But today just isn't the day. It's quite a lazy day at Torchwood Three, where most days are marginally exhilarating. Pizzas, coffees, amplified innuendos (courtesy of Captain Jack Harkness himself), but no rift activity. Almost lunchtime and all of them still sitting with thumbs up their asses with practically nothing to do, save Tosh (who's currently studying the DNA latching of Arcadian hydroelectric nanobombs.)

Jack feels welcome by all means to the Torchwood team, bar Janto. There's that feeling that he can't easily shake off - that there's something borderline suspicious about how Janto acts toward him. And with that, Jack glided towards the coffeemaker and approached Janto, thinking of a way to force a small talk. He needed to know who he is, _pronto_.

"Hey, can I…" Jack started.

"Coffee supply down and I guess that's all the excitement we're getting today." Janto motioned for the coffeemaker without addressing anyone in particular, his face deadpan. "I'm getting outta here. People, contact me if you needed anything."

"Don't ever use your bloody motorcycle again, Firebird. Throttling the SUV is one thing, but motorcycles…" Gwen warned, her pointer finger waving threateningly.

"Don't worry, Gwen. My suit won't crinkle a bit!" He swerved off the coat rack and snatched his military coat, exiting the rolling door with a wink for everyone.

"My god, he's crazy." Tosh shakes her head, smiling.

"Harkness-kind-of-crazy." Owen quipped. Jack protested.

Gwen let out a frustrating sigh and threw her hands off the air. "That kid! If he attempts to put down a Weevil by his own again, I'll bloody kill him with my bare hands!"

"Won't be out more than twenty!" Janto's yell echoed through the corridor.

Needless to say, overspeeding is Janto's forte. He returned more or less than ten minutes later from the nearest grocery (which takes more than ten minutes to get there), with a huge tower of brown paper bags in his arms.

"Janto Jones, king of the Cardiff roads… Did you know I have a thing for fast drivers?" Jack sneered while motioning to take Janto's paper bags, but he shook Jack's hands off.

Jack merely shrugged, while the _King of the Cardiff roads_ made his (difficult) way to the pantry, still evidently ignoring Jack.

"Tosh, Dad woke up yet whilst I'm away?" Janto called from the pantry.

"Nope, still not a word from him. Time will come, dear."

"And how about that hydroelectric nanobombs of yours?"

"I removed all the DNA latches on it, which reminds me… Be careful trotting down your coffee machine, I kept the bombs on that new box just beside the railing. Don't spill coffee on them!"

"Funny thing with nanobombs is, they just pop. They don't explode, which is kinda lame, actually." Janto stated, still talking loudly.

"Wrong! Unlatched hydroelectric nanobombs are safe unless they're submerged in water. They'll activate and electrocute the nearest life form nearest them with just a pop." Jack shouted back.

There was a loud clatter of tin cans and saucepans from the pantry, followed by a loud curse and an exasperated groan from Janto. Jack rushed hurriedly into the pantry and pulled Janto off from under the fallen cabinet.

"Easy there, gorgeous." Jack smirked, still holding Janto's arm.

"No sweat! I'm okay!" Janto shrugged off Jack's hand on his arm, straightened his suit and shouted back to Tosh. "Time would better be near! He promised to me. He promised us. You know he never, ever breaks his promises."

"Huh. I was expecting a 'thank you for saving me, Captain' or something…" Jack sneered.

"I am pretty sure I am capable of handling these, Captain Harkness." Janto replied indignantly in return.

Jack shrugged and left the pantry, his eyebrows fairly reaching his hairlines. He never expected a handsome man like Janto would be _that_ resilient. Fuck that schmoozing up to get on Janto Jones's good books. Time to do it the Captain Jack Harkness way, guns blazing!

The third time Jack attempted to lure Janto was when he was writing in his leather-bound book again. It remarkably looks much like the diary his Ianto keeps.

Almond-shaped blue eyes, steep nose, prominent cheekbones, perfectly curved lips, heartbreakingly smooth Welsh accent, familiar eyebrows furrowing in confusion, the knack for making heavenly coffee – all that strange traits, combined with the well-kept leather-bound diary…

Ever-so-seriously, Jack pulled out an antique golden stopwatch and a picture of him kissing the cheeks of a grinning Ianto from his coat pocket and showed it to Janto, asking him the question that was bugging him for the last 43 hours.

"Do you, by chance, happen to know someone that goes by the name Ianto Jones?"


	4. Chapter 4: The Fall of Janto Jones

**Ch4: The Fall of Janto Jones**

If this parallel-world Torchwood could be anything but welcoming, it is guilt-inducing. Everyone's here, yes, but there's still one person that his heart (Yes, his heart. Don't look at him like that, please,) yearns to see, and that's Ianto Jones. And every second that he doesn't – he just wants to break down and scream profanities at everyone.

Even Janto Jones – by the odd manners he's exhibiting, is the closest parallel he's ever gonna get to Ianto Jones – is now avoiding him. But never mind that, because things felt even more final when he said that there is always gonna be one Ianto Jones for him; it was as if the parallel worlds had taken this statement seriously.

The silence is shattered by the rolling door opening and loud sigh from Owen. Jack looked up expectantly at the newcomer, only to be disappointed after a split second.

"It's about time, Janto. We needed your out-of-this-world coffee." Owen slumped in his seat, pretending at his best to look exhausted.

"Hello, Janto!" Anwen waved her unicorn toy frantically at Janto's direction, her cheeks getting redder. "Don't mind Owen!"

"Of course I won't, my little princess." Janto turned to Owen and retorted, "Perhaps a 'please' would sweeten things up."

The beautiful Welsh drawl in his speech lowered Jack's coffin a little bit more. He watched Janto's military coat flailing behind him while he walked upstairs, towards the coffee machine. Guilt started clawing at the pit of his stomach again. Jack buried his face in his hands.

Gwen sat beside him, rubbing his back soothingly. "Jack, coffee?"

There's a particular thing with coffees that calms him, that made him ready to finally talk and ask questions… Without guns blazing, of course.

"Gwen, where's Jack? The other Jack, I mean."

Gwen glanced briefly at Janto and sighed. "He's dead."

Jack didn't miss the meaningful eye contact between the two, and that's when he became a total douche with an incoherent mind.

"Did he kill him?" Jack asked, trying to contain his anger. "Janto. Your name's Janto, right? Is that why you can't look me in the eye? Is that why you're avoiding me all this time, flinching as I came near you? Is that why you looked shaken when I said my name?"

"Cap'n Jack, no!" Anwen warned.

Jack lashed out, and shouting like a madman. Janto flinched with every word he heard, taking a step back each time Jack walks a step towards him. Tosh hurried to where Anwen was playing and carried her to a room, while Owen and Rhys held each of Jack's hands, halting his advancing footsteps.

Then it all happened.

Janto tripped on a wire cable beside the detached railings and fell headfirst on the watery surface at the centre of the hub. The wire cable went wild, emitting live sparks and flailing off in different directions.

Jack watched in horror as he noticed the box that fell with Janto get drenched in water. He eyed the box then looked hurriedly at an unconscious Janto.

_…safe unless they're submerged in water._

_…activate and electrocute the nearest life form._

"Get off of me!" The two released him and he made a run for Janto, his guts suddenly determined to save the mysterious kid.

But it was too late. There was an odd consecutive popping sound and a second later, only a steady dripping sound of liquid echoed through the hub.

"He's gone." Gwen mused, holding a lifeless Janto in her arms, blood pouring out of his mouth. She caressed the face of the boy, now just looking not older than eighteen.

_It's another death on your hands, Captain Jack Harkness._

"Chill, Gwen. He'll be okay." Owen said dismissively. Jack looked at him loathingly, as if he couldn't make this situation any worse.

Owen merely looked back at him as he spotted Tosh closing the room she had just come from. "Oi Tosh, get a glass of water."

Wondering what on earth is going to happen now that he messed up with the parallel world, he subconsciously knelt beside Janto and took him in his arms.

Ash-blonde hair, tastefully-defined jaw, steep nose, and a pair of lifeless almond-shaped blue eyes staring blankly at the ceiling… That beautiful Welsh voice Jack knew so well… Jack felt a surge of sudden loss at what had happened. He shuts the man's beautiful eyelids using his hand and pulled him for a hug. The gentle tang of apples and cinnamon assailed Jack's nose.

"I'm sorry, Janto. I barely even got the chance to know you." Jack whispered on his ear. "I'm really, really sorry."

Everyone watched him with pity on their eyes. He wiped Janto's blood spilling from his mouth and knelt there for a while, caressing his corpse.

After several minutes, Jack gently carried Janto's body in the autopsy table and after a last stroke at Janto's dishevelled hair, he planted a kiss on Janto's forehead then turned around to face Gwen.

Jack shook his head apologetically. "I'm so, so sorry."

"We should be the ones to apologise, Jack. Janto's your son."


	5. Chapter 5: The Immortal Aristocrat

**Ch5: The Immortal Aristocrat**

Jack still can't believe it. His own son (well, not his, but parallel Jack's son, which practically is him since the bloke's dead,) is now lying lifeless on the autopsy table because of him.

He hadn't even got the chance to know him properly, but the emptiness in his guts tells him otherwise. There's a connection, a bond between the two of them that can't be denied. The military coat just like his – parallel Jack must've given it to him. The blue-green tint in his eyes, the shape of his jaw, the height… He must've inherited it from him. The strange scent of apples and cinnamon he whiffed at the vaults, it smells very much like his deceased mother; 51st century pheromones. The mild sarcasm, almost everything about Janto was from him - some of the remarkable traits he passed on.

Now Jack's not pissed with himself, not suicidal, just completely, utterly empty. He went on his usual fortress; his only resort whenever he just feels like the whole world is crushing down on him.

Meanwhile, a desperate gasp broke the silence inside the hub, followed by a grunt of discontent from the corpse that was on the autopsy table just about a second ago. The whole of Torchwood – save Jack and Anwen - wheeled around just in time to see Janto bolt upright, his hand rubbing the back of his head.

Rhys sighed. "Thought you're not gonna wake up there, kiddo."

"Nope, I'm still not getting used to that _'getting hauled in a sea of broken glass'_ thingy. I wonder how my Dads ever got around to that kind of feeling." He groaned, craning his neck side by side.

Tosh approached Janto and handed him a glass of water. "Jack didn't mean any of it, dear."

"I know, I know. He just looks shocked, and I had a fairly clumsy moment. And really sorry about those bombs, Tosh." He gulped a mouthful of water and continued, "Shall we wake up Father and tell him, then? That… That the Captain's here, I mean."

"The vault will open at the right time, and it might not be long from now. Talk to Jack first; he might not recognise your Father." Gwen replied, looking solemn.

"I don't have anything to say, just get off my autopsy table, Jones." said Owen, who still look repulsed at someone alive sitting on his autopsy table.

"Alright, whatever pleases you, spoilsport. Gotta go get the Captain and talk to him, anyway. Getting off, getting off…" and with that, Janto jumped carelessly off the autopsy table and landed on all fours. Owen winced.

Janto rushed off to the stairs. Upon reaching the landing, he looked back at the stunned faces on the hub and ran his long fingers through his dishevelled ash-brown hair, speaking on his beautiful Welsh tone once more.

"And one more thing, it's Harkness. Janto Jones-Harkness." He winked and hurried off, the hem of his grey military coat flaring behind him.

"One second he's the diplomatic teaboy, then the next, he's a flirtatious bloke." Gwen states, her face deadpan.

All four of them stared after Janto with their mouths partly hanging. Tosh is the first one to crack, and they all started laughing.

"I'll tell you one thing, though. _That_ is completely Jack's genes at work." Owen affirmed.

And while the Torchwood team's laughing their asses off to Janto's sporadic split-personality, Jack was still sitting on the roof of the Millennium Centre, silently having a mini-breakdown until a voice startled him out of his thoughts.

"Captain, can I have a word with you, sir?"

Jack stood still, shocked, at the familiarity of the voice. He turned around and found himself face-to-face with none other than Janto Jones himself. Jack looked at him incredulously, taking a step away from him every second.

"Did you just came back to torment me?"

"I'm not a ghost, if that's what you mean." Janto said simply.

Jack felt uneasy. Mourning for a person closely linked to your blood is one thing, but facing a resurrected person that died because of your fiery temper – hell, that's different.

"Huh. You're… alive? But there's no way you could survive those state-of-the-art explosive…"

"I am immortal, sir. Or quite so… I die, but I just keep coming back."


	6. Chapter 6: Cassiopeia

**Ch6: Cassiopeia**

Jack shot him a _'Who are you, Janto Jones?'_ look. Janto, in return, gave him a disbelieving look but tried, hard as it was, to explain everything.

"Janto Jones, Janto Harkness, The Firebird, The Immortal Aristocrat, all those aliases pertains to me. Just seventeen years old. Secretly working for Torchwood Cardiff since last year, you know, lack of… staff. I'm more of an undercover agent. Blending in the crowd, catching whiffs of alien threats. My whole childhood, I've been living here with them lot… and I'm unfortunate enough to lose you before I can start storing memories." Janto sighed, running his hands unconsciously on his dishevelled hair.

Jack stared at the stars faintly shining above him. No matter how hard he tried, no words of consolation would ever come from his mouth, for there are no words to explain how horrible Janto's life had become.

"That's all about it. I don't really expect that a Captain Jack Harkness from another world would fall through the rift one day and meet me. What's worst was the way you look at everyone, and then your eyes would lock into mine, looking at me like don't even know me. Evidently, that pretty much sums up everything; I don't exist in your world, but you existed in mine, which is quite envying." Janto shrugged.

Jack couldn't see why this lucky bastard – his son, rather – envies him. He's pretty sure it should be going the other way around.

"Janto, son, listen to me. You have Owen and Tosh, and so is Gwen's family. You've got a wonderful life at Torchwood here. You are happy. Me? My whole world, my life, my whole existence is a fucked-up whackjob. I endanger people that come too close; I destroyed people's peaceful lives by recruiting them to Torchwood." He gulped, attempting to shove down the lump forming in his throat. "I always lose the people I mostly care about, people that I love. It's either they're always in trouble, or they're practically dead. Do you envy me still, Janto Harkness? Do you envy your dad's parallel world?"

Janto, however, surprised him with an unexpected question.

"That man on the picture you showed me, Sir. The one you were kissing. Who is he to you?"

"He's Ianto Jones. He's the only man I ever seriously loved and considered marrying. I promised to myself that I'll propose to him after we save Earth's children from the 456's wrath, I even have the ring ready." Jack held his left hand in the air, and Janto eyed the simple gold ring faintly glinting in the moonlight. "Sometimes I think that maybe, my whole life, I am really jinxed. We barely survived the 456, and Ianto was killed by an airborne virus at Thames and his body is now currently frozen on a cryochamber vault on Torchwood back home."

Now it's Janto who was at loss for words. Sitting in silence, Jack continued to pour his thoughts to his son.

"And you know, with your name strikingly similar with his, you were the first one I ever approached for three weeks just to talk about my Ianto. I was blindly hoping that maybe, just maybe, he exists in this world. Part of me wants to stay here and find him and be happy with him, while a little part of me thinks that it's better to stay away from him and let him live a normal life with an awesome woman, three kids and a dog on a two-floor flat." Jack finished, lying back on the roof and continued looking at the stars.

_Normally, I'd say, 'Screw the subtleties, you're mine!' and I'll sweep him off his feet, twirl him around my office like a baby, kiss his cheeks and he'll laugh. His laughter is the most beautiful sound my heart has ever heard, so beautiful that my memories can't do it justice. What if I found Ianto in this world, but he never even met me? Or worse still, what if he detests me for screwing up his life? Where shall I go from here?_ Jack thought, still staring at the stars, absentmindedly tracing the Cassiopeia with his index finger.

"And normally, in this situation you'd say, 'Screw the subtleties, you're mine!' and sweep him off his feet, but you couldn't, because you're afraid." said Janto.

_How on earth did he-_

"Mildly telepathic. Only to people closely related to me, anyway. My other Dad, you, and pretty much the whole Torchwood team."

Whatever the reason was, sparks began to light up on the shadows of Jack's mind and suddenly he felt so alive for the first time in three weeks. Different questions began forming on his mind, all of it waiting so desperately for answers.

"So, your other dad… Where is he? What was he like?" Jack mused, gazing at the all-too-familiar almond-shaped eyes of his son.

"He's locked on a cryochamber; his vault is frozen on a temporal lock." Janto closed his eyes for a moment and sniggered. "And you wanna know if he's a blonde or a brunette? Seriously?"

"Stop reading my mind, Janto Jones. It's creepy."

"You know by saying so, you've just encouraged me to delve deeper onto your thoughts, right?"

"Cheeky bastard, you are!"

"Like father, like son." Janto winked, and with that, Jack laughed. Oh yes, Janto Jones is a Harkness, indeed.


	7. Chapter 7: Trusted Judgment

**Ch7: Trusted Judgement**

The next few days felt particularly entertaining for the Torchwood team, if it so happens that the word 'entertaining' in your dictionary is synonymous to trouble. While Jack and Rhys went out to catch an Ood that wandered from the other side of the rift on a Friday morning, UNIT called up and sparked the start of their troubles.

Brigadier Masterson on the other line reported (or rather complained) about two civilians that disappeared over the past week under unusual circumstances.

"We received reports on a particular library just outside Cardiff. Two people had gone missing over the past week. Both of them were last seen entering the restricted area; picked up and read a particular book and somewhere halfway through, they just vanished. No traces of anything. It is getting out of hand, Mr Jones… We understand that Torchwood doesn't want to take part in police investigations, but we don't know who else to call." Said Brigadier Masterson, who was on speakerphone.

"Sounds fishy enough." Janto approved. "Continue."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say someone messed up with the camera and placed a poorly-made camera effect. So I called, thinking you lot could be of use."

Janto looked onto Gwen's eyes, hoping for an answer. Gwen merely shrugged, which is the gesture closest to agreement that Janto's going to get from any of them; what with after what UNIT and the Cardiff Police Department had done to his parents…

This is, after all, the police. Having Torchwood as a speed-dial contact and entrusting them with their lives is the last thing on the UNIT's to-do list, but maybe they're just plain tired of covering up freak deaths and disappearances – the kinds of stuff Torchwood never gets tired of, what with their full stock of body banks.

Yes, you read it right, _body banks_.

"We'll try our best to look into it. Thanks for the tip, Brigadier." Janto said, while Owen mouthed "What?!" to him, his face marred with utter anger and disbelief.

"Thank you, Mr Jones." There was a click on the other side and the call ended. There was a split second of silence before Owen's voice rocketed onto their ears and hit them like a bullet train. Tosh winced.

"What the hell was that?" Owen raged, pointing his index finger nowhere, jabbing in the air. "That! 'We'll try our best to look into it', that's crap!" He mimicked Janto mockingly. "We all bloody know that's never going to happen! Helping them after what the police and UNIT did to Jack and Ianto – your parents, Janto! Have some bleeding brain!"

Just on cue yet again, Jack and Rhys stepped from the rotating door with a calm-looking Ood in tow. All pairs of eyes looked at him cautiously like waiting for him to badger them with myriads of questions.

Jack looked back at them, they looked back at him, and clearly they were having a battle of eyebrow-raising. Janto and Owen continued staring at each other heatedly, like some electric spark was flowing from one pair of eyes to the other, while Gwen and Tosh continued to stare at Jack like they were facing the Grim Reaper – of course that isn't possible, yeah. Even the Ood appears to feel the tension, as the tentacles on his (her?) face started to squiggle and the folds of his (her?) forehead seemed higher than usual.

"Um, something wrong? Have I got a smudge on my handsome face? What?" Jack asked.

"Nothing, nothing." Gwen lied deliberately, avoiding Jack's eyes as he traipsed down the stairs toward the vaults to lock the captured Ood. "Rhys, we just got a call from Brigadier Masterson. Two people disappeared from the library this week. No sign of them leaving the area, they say we'd better look at it…"

Making sure Jack is out of earshot, Rhys answered back.

"Gwen, after what happened with us and UNIT, they wanted us to liaise with them that easily? Fifteen years, Gwen; the UNIT and them – they left our hands full and we lost Jack and Ianto. Why help them now?"

"It's because Jack wouldn't have wanted more disappearances, and Ianto would've gone straight away to that bloody library to investigate. We've been ignoring UNIT and the police for a long time now. A parallel-universe Jack is here and Ianto will soon wake up. Torchwood's rising again; we must take action and bite the bullet as well instead of sitting here procrastinating and worrying about what will happen tomorrow!" Gwen bit back icily.

The mention of Jack and Ianto silenced everyone. They never had talked about them in almost fifteen years, and yet here they are, making their decision once more with the two lovers on their minds…

"We built the New Torchwood - with all outside connections severed - in hope that one day, the Captain will return and my dad, Ianto Jones, will be awakened. We lived in the shadow long enough and we are trotting on a trial-and-error basis for far too long, so why not make ourselves useful to them for once, to make them to feel guilty of what they had done? You have to trust me on this one." stated Janto calmly. He stared at each of them carefully in the eyes, stating his authority over them.

"Just this once, Janto Jones." Owen said threateningly and walked out of the hub without another word.


End file.
